Beyond 'i'm Fine' Poem by cassidy Lovato

'How are you? '

It's such a small question.

Two seconds.
Four words.
A passing greeting
we've rehearsed
our entire lives.

'Good.'

'I'm doing well.'

'Can't complain.'

The conversation moves on,
and so do we.

Sometimes
someone pauses.

They ask again.

'No...
how are you really? '

And for a moment,
the world stands still.

Because where do you begin?

Do you tell them
the dishes are done,
the kids are fed,
the laundry is folded,
and somehow
you still feel like
you're falling apart?

Do you tell them
that you've mastered
the art of smiling
while your mind
is quietly collapsing
behind your eyes?

Do you tell them
that existing
can feel heavier
than anyone realizes?

That some mornings,
the greatest accomplishment
is simply getting out of bed
and pretending
today belongs to you.

How do you explain
that your world
isn't ending all at once...

It's unraveling
one quiet thread
at a time.

People think
strength
looks like resilience.

They don't see
the strength it takes
to wake up
when your heart
already feels tired.

They don't see
the conversations
you survive
inside your own mind.

The bargains.

The memories.

The endless
'What if...'

Some people
truly want to know.

Some ask
because they care.

Some never ask
at all.

And somehow,

the silence
can hurt
just as much.

Because no one
wants to become
another person's burden.

No one wants
their storm
to become
someone else's rain.

So we learn
to translate ourselves.

'I'm okay.'

'I'm just tired.'

'It's been busy.'

As if grief,
loneliness,
depression,
heartbreak,
and hope
could ever fit
inside a sentence.

The truth is...

I don't always know
how to answer.

Not because
I'm hiding.

But because
I haven't yet found
the words
for what it feels like
to live
inside my own mind.

Some days,
I'm held together
by laughter.

By my children.

By a warm cup of coffee.

A favorite song.

The smell of rain.

A flower
growing where
no one planted it.

Tiny embers.

Small enough
that the world
would overlook them.

Yet somehow,
they keep
my fire alive.

Maybe that's
what healing is.

Not waking up
one day
completely okay.

But finding
one more reason
to stay.

One more reason
to smile.

One more reason
to believe
tomorrow
might feel lighter.

So the next time
you ask someone,

'How are you? '

Leave room
for the silence.

Sometimes,
the bravest answer
isn't 'I'm fine.'

Sometimes,

it's simply,

'I'm trying.'

And sometimes...

that is more than enough.